The Knocking On The Wall
Hi BOILS and GHOULS, I was just RESCARING THE GRAVEMENT outside of my CASTLE here! Hopefully, it'll give you a HORRIFYING-HINT about the SLOPIC of this evening's tale. It concerns somebody who is a bit WALLED-OFF, and is quite a KNOCK-OUT. I call it... A man walked into an apartment up, in New York City, back in early-Winter, 1940. "Looks nice and cozy" he said to himself, looking around the room. The man kept warm by a little roaring-fireplace in the front room and sat on the sofa, turning on the radio on the end-table beside it. "Jeepers Creepers" was being sung by a man on the radio. As the man on the sofa covered up with a blanket, he heard a knocking on the wall behind him. "Huh, must be my new neighbors hanging a photo or painting. On the day I move in here too" the man said to himself with a chuckle. "Oh well" he said, pouring a glass of wine from a bottle beside the radio. The knocking stopped and he sipped the wine. Later that afternoon, the knocking on the wall started up again. The man was out, in his brand new kitchen, chopping some greens and heard it, along with "Buffalo Gals" playing on the radio. He went over to the wall, as the knocking continued, then with a frown, returned to the kitchen. Later that night, he was awakened in his brand new bed, by the knocking on the wall starting up again. The knocking continued to go on for five hours. It got louder and louder. The man got out of bed, got his boots and coat onand stormed over next-door. "Hey, hello, I am Horace Whittaker your new next-door neighbor, please stop knocking on the wall. I'm trying to sleep!" the man called, knocking on the door. Horace Whittaker shivered in the falling-snow and returned to his apartment. The knocking on the wall kept going on getting louder and becoming pounding. Horace saw a hole get punched through it. He gasped in surprise and jumped, backing up. A moldy-limb reached out of the hole, and it was the color of white. A zombified-head poked out of the wall behind the arm and hand, looking decomposed, covered to the brim with the same white mold. The eyes of the corpse were blood-shot and rolling, and the corpse opened its decaying-mouth, revealing black-rotted-teeth. "I got trapped in here when this place was being built. I was one of the builders. I died in this wall and have finally broken through it after five years of knocking!" the zombie muttered in a raspy-voice of a man to Horace Whittaker. "Your next-door neighbor trapped me in here causing me to die sir. I shall finally seek my revenge tonight" the zombie explained, climbing through the hole in the wall. The zombie slunk slowly out of the apartment in old, red overalls, a white shirt and old, black work-boots. Horace Whittaker latched his door up tight in fear and moments later, heard the screaming of his nexst-door neighbor followed by the sound of a neck being broke and the zombie's raspy-laughter on the other side of the wall. Hee-Hee, talk about being DRIVEN UP THE WALL...OR IN ONE eh, Kiddies? Well, it looks like Horace sure GOT THE GOOP ON HIS NEW NEIGHBOR NEXT-GORE eh? Hee-Hee-Hee!